Milestones and Shiny Dog Poop

So first off, you guys all effing RULE because that last post on Adam Levine, nuts, butts and soap shards? HIGHEST COMMENT COUNT EVER. Yes, some of mine are in there, but still! 37 or so thoughts on the subject is pretty big for me, and is appreciated more than you know!

You guys are awesome.

Also? Thanks to Bruce who has brought me up to 70 awesome folks willing to push the "Follow" button for this here itty bitty blog.

In case you were wondering, in terms of highest number of comments, bringing up the rear was Sparkling Clean Colon? (See what I did there? Do ya? DO YA??) with 26 comments. If you haven't read it, you should. I am all about pride, privacy, and appropriateness at all times.

Stop laughing!

On to other things. Two nights ago Schultz ate my last 300gram bag of Lindt Lindor chocolates, that were individually wrapped in tinfoil, made to look like tree ornaments. He got all but three.

You should probably know that:
A) Chocolate is toxic to dogs.
B) I fucking WANTED those chocolates for breakfast. EXPECTED it.
C) The ornaments also had strings, so foil and string are currently working their way through Schultz' intestines.
D) I didn't know he would possibly want or steal wrapped food. Only Scooby had a taste for Lindor chocolates.
E) I ate two of the white chocolate ones before going to bed.
F) He missed one dark chocolate one (my least favourite) in the couch cushions. Either that, or he didn't like those ones either.

Well, since he ate them Tuesday night, I have been accompanying him out in the snow to make sure all bodily functions are proceeding as normal. I found red Lindor tinfoil in his poop today. (Yes I checked. I could see it glimmering from a distance... the things a mother does...)

And know what? I cleaned it up right away so -
wait for it -
hope you haven't eaten/aren't eating -
you ready? -

So that he wouldn't be tempted by the aftermath into enjoying it a second time.

Disgusting I know.

You're welcome.

Anyone else find any treasure lately? Anything interesting/piss-offedness-inducing happen to you? Share, share.
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F-cked Up Letters

Click HERE to View Round One

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Dear SELF While DRIVING,

Just because you got rear-ended (resulting in whiplash) while stopped at a stoplight in 2010, it does not mean that EVERY.SINGLE.CAR that appears to be fast approaching behind you will also rear end you. You have been driving in fear of this for 8.5 months. I saw you cringe last night at a stoplight again. You need to get the fuck over it and realize it took 14 years of driving for it to happen to you once! Jaysus! Lighten up already.

Signed,
Me



Dear Tiny Itty Bitty Little Piece of Soap Left In The Shower,

I respect your work ethic. You seriously are giving it your all until the very end. And yours is a thankless job; I care not to know all of the things you have seen in your working life.

My skin crawls at the site of some of that beige "soap"...

That being said, I cannot ignore the panic and uneasiness that settles upon me when I attempt to wash my butt and/or buttcrack region, and you disappear. I know, I know, Dove Sensitive Skin that you match the (sometimes) white of the bathtub, but seriously... where did you go? WHERE did you disappear to? Is there dislodging I should be commencing? SERIOUSLY WHERE the fuck DID YOU GO? And now, how am I supposed to finish showering? You know I am not foolish enough to use BF's acid soap (Ivory... 99% pure...  lye, people!).

Just hang in there until I unceremoniously toss you into the garbage can, and prepare for the next showering experience with a new bar. No one wants to get lost in my nether regions. Except maybe Adam Levine. That would be okay.

Thankfully,
Me

I will never resort to this for soap shards. BF already thinks I have too much crap in the shower, anyway. (Sidenote: I hope no one googles "crap in the shower" and finds my blog. They will be disappointed)

Dear Adam Levine,

Hello there, Adam Levine. How yoooooou doooin'?

You are on my "free pass" list. (In fact, you are the only one I can think of right now. Maybe Sidney Crosby, but only the grown up version. I digress [EDIT: My friend A.P. reminded me indirectly that Bradley Cooper is also on that list. Just want to be clear]). You have an open invitation to get lost in my nether regions. BF hates you for that reason, but for that reason I also hate Jessica Alba. Please come up with better Tweets because you are losing some of your sex appeal. Pull a Britney and have a staffer do it for you. Please. Also? I cannot get the song "Misery" out of my head. Usually in the shower. Often after I 'misplace' the soap.

Dreamily Yours,
Me

p.s. Don't forget about my nether regions.

[Edit, Youtube Vid Below]




Dear Clearance Watch That Ticks Ever-So-Loudly,

I purchased you because, in truth, you were cheaper to buy than the cost to replace the battery in my faithful and trusty Mary Kate and Ashley model. Why must you tick so loudly? Like, super loud? If I am wearing you while I put earrings in, I think you may cause my sensitive eardrums to burst. Please be quiet. But don't die in doing so, because the cost to replace your battery will be more than you are worth.

Also? Thanks for being so damn loose. Your packaging hid that feature well and you were final sale. You are also not worth paying to have links removed. I know fear the jeweler would laugh me out of the store. But your blue face is pretty. That is all.

Silently,
Me



Dear $2 Impulse-Buy Bag of Peanuts,

Stop being so damn irresistible. I didn't even know I liked peanuts, but I was hungry. I don't think I do like peanuts. You make me feel super-dee-duper nauseous, but your salty-meatiness is irresistible. You are loaded with fat and salt and are satisfying, probably moreso than Adam Levine would be (I'm only guessing, he will have to probably prove himself otherwise).

You are adding to my weight gain and I have no restraint. Damn you peanuts.

In Good Health,
Me

"Righty-o, mates, here to plump up your bottom with my greasy, salty nuts. Off to work now, cheerio."

Cocky bastard, isn't he?

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Vacation Follies Part 1 (The Dog Kennel: Pre-Departure)

So our adventure started around 7am on Christmas Day (after me leaving packing until the very last second on Christmas Eve. Which was on the heels of me leaving wrapping ALL of the presents to the last minute before my family Christmas. See a trend? No, me neither).

We sleepily (and for me, coupled with anxiety, begrudgingly) turned off the snooze buttons and alarm clocks and hauled our tired asses out of bed. BF and I hurriedly exchanged gifts knowing that we were under the gun for time, and had yet to take Schultzy to his luxurious little doggy kennel ( --insert heavy/guilty feelings of dread for said activity here-- ).

I am NOT a bad parent pet-owner, I am NOT a bad parent pet-owner...

It went so quickly that it seems a blur (maybe that was all those gross goobery eye crusties I hadn't yet had the time to wipe away... one never really knows these things). I do remember, though, that BF got me a fancy-schmancy red rice cooker (very wild for him, if you ask me, the kitchen has black and silver appliances** - thanks babe!!). And to top it off, he surprised me with this wicked-ass red coat I had drooled over when I was at Winners (during the sad shopping trip mentioned here.) He had talked me out of buying it over the phone, at my request. He actually bought at least 5 or 6 coats to try to find one that would work.

I cried at the thoughtful surprise (the first tears to come of the day).

We loaded up Schultz (and his bed, and his comforter, and his leash, and his muzzle, and his two favourite stuffed animals, and...) to head to the boarding kennel, The Escarpment Pet Retreat, where I had previously talked to the male owner repeatedly to make sure we were good to go, confirm the time we would bring our baby dog, and make sure we could see where he would be staying and the set up of the kennel.

When we got there, the female owner was rude and defensive within the first minute. She refused to let us see where Schultz would be staying. She swore once or twice. I got VERY upset, as I discussed (through tears) that the male owner had said, and I quote "any reputable kennel will allow you to see the premises and have a tour unless they have something to hide."

Hmph. The male owner was not there.

The female owner then refused us entry to the kennel area, insisting we would upset the other dogs, then she told us that we "clearly don't give a shit about animals" if we wanted to go into the kennel area. All the while staff members walked back and forth, in and out, with minimal upset to the dogs. (For those of you living under a rock, I love animals, I adopt animals, I don't eat animals, I am a goddamn bleeding heart for animals, just FYI. I am no saint, but I certainly give a shit!)

I looked at BF and begged/pleaded/asked the impossible question of taking the dog somewhere - anywhere - else, but we both knew we were screwed.

It was 9:30am on Christmas Day, we have a huge sometimes-aggressive Great Dane, and we needed someone to take care of him while we were gone on our trip (which we were scheduled to depart for in 30 minutes). The female owner made it clear that she would be quite fine if we were to leave and go somewhere else. She encouraged it.

The rage bubbled inside.

Our lovely boy, Schultzy Poo

So, through heavy sobbing I had to leave before I said something warranting the female owner to kick us out altogether. I had to bite my tongue. I felt horrible. But we had no friends willing to watch him for that long, and my parents were coming with us. So we were screwed.

I went back in to say goodbye and we had to leave. I cried the whole way home.
I cried at home, gathering and packing my last few trip items.
I cried on the way to the airport.
I cried silently on the first leg of the flight.

I felt like the worst pet owner ever.

YAAAAY! Great start to the vacay!

** - I just found out on Wednesday that this rice cooker was purchased with the intention of only EVER being on the counter when in use, then being hidden away otherwise (since it is red). BF loses "crazy & wild" points on that one.


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